Downpour
by Jheda
Summary: Alone and drunk, Roxy stumbles into an unwanted house guests, who turns out to be her only means of survival in a crumbling world.


Her face had already met with the hardwood floor before she realized that her feet were no longer upon it. That step had definitely not been there when she had walked up the same stairs earlier.

There was no sound in the room other than the consistent rain outside, which was less than surprising, as nobody was going to be home tonight if her memory served her right. Her mother was off on one of her business trips to god knows where. She was always off somewhere, which would normally be heaven for any other twenty-four year old girl who still lived at home, but it was torture for her. She didn't have many friends, and those she did have were thousands of miles away, connected to her only by the frail ties of the internet.

She had gone through high school and college alone, with little to do outside of classwork other than game. This never worried her mother of course, as she was always closely watched by a nanny while she was away. The most she ever saw her mother was on birthdays, which she always insisted she take the whole day off and take her out to some kind of amusement park. Otherwise, she spent most holidays alone. After she turned 16, her mother decided she no longer needed a nanny, and that's when she had found the liquor cabinet. Her mother probably didn't even realize it, as she was still doing well in school. Which was about the only thing she would check up on regularly.

But after going through high school and college, having double majored, gaining a bachelors in Political Science and Computer Engineering, she was still living at home, working a low-rate job at a computer repair store. She just hadn't had the drive to actually do anything worthwhile. Not to mention it was so easy to just keep living at home, as she was practically the only one there anymore. Who wouldn't want to live in a giant house free of charge, with a bank account full of trust fund money that you hadn't used to actually purchase anything with yet? Being alone wasn't too bad. Right?

Rolling onto her back, she felt the side of her leg becoming increasingly cold. Reaching her hand down to the chill, she discovered that her leg wasn't what was becoming cold, it was her pants that had landed in something wet.

"W-What the.." she stammered in confusion and turned onto her side to get a better angle to see where the liquid had originated from.

She blinked a few times, before realizing that it was too dark for even her eyes to adjust to, which _was _surprising.

Wasn't the moon out earlier? She foggily remembered looking out the window, and seeing the bright globe in the sky, masked by a constant stream of rain. Yes. It had definitely been there.

She tried again to let her eyes adjust, and managed to make out the window to her left, but the blinds had been drawn, blocking out any natural light.

_I don't remember closing that. _She pulled herself up to a sitting position, and almost met with the floor again, as her head swayed. She had to lean all the way forward to keep herself from heaving.

After a moment of steady breathing, she managed to pull herself up against the wall and reached the light switch. It took her a moment to get the lights actually on, as the panel not only held the switch for the light, but for those for the porch, the heating, cooling as well as the switch to open and close the curtains.

"ohhfucckin..gkh" she sputtered as she covered her face with her arm, trying to shield her eyes the sudden unforgiving light. Rubbing her temples, she opened her eyes to look into the room. She was at the edge of the staircase that let out into the open floorspace of her living room. It was lined in white couches and glass tables, with a glass bookshelf full of all of her mothers novels and more to the right, all atop a dark hardwood floor that she had recently become acquainted with. To the far side of the room, she confirmed that the long bay windows that lined the entire room, had indeed been enclosed in the thick white curtains that were typically tied against the walls.

Forgetting why she had turned the light on in the first place, she drew her attention back to where she had crawled off the floor. There was a thick trail of water, mud and blood across the wood floor, as if someone had been dragged into the study from the front door. She had barely realized what she had seen when she noticed the front door was ajar, the storm outside little more than a whisper with the wind break on the front of their house.

She couldn't think fast enough to react, but speed walked her way into the kitchen, clutching the wall for dear life, as if her feetwere going to give out on her again at any moment. She crossed the island to the fireplace adjacent the dining table, and yanked the fire poker out of it's stand, which made far more noise than she had anticipated. She stopped dead in her tracks and stared down the open hallway to the ominous door. There was no movement. _Why didn't they have any guns. This would be an opportune moment to have a gun in this house._

Believing herself safe to move, she leaned herself against, sliding all the way to the opening in the hallway where there was no wall on which to lean. She stepped into the entryway, holding her hand firmly on the wall to keep herself up, and used the fire poker to slowly close the front door. She made note to keep it unlocked in case she needed to make a quick escape.

Without looking back, she made her way to the wide open door of the study. About two feet from the door, she took a deep breath and stepped into the room, fire poker out and at the ready.

At first, she didn't see anything other than the familiar mahogany desk, framed by bookshelves, framed photos and seating. Then she saw him. Huddled up facing the wall in an old cat bed that no cat had slept in in years.

It was a boy, with mud caked clothes. She faltered, her weapon of choice lowered. She stepped forward to reach the boy, but caught her hip on the edge of one of the leather bound couches, and she went to the floor, fire poker clattering to her side.

The boy quickly turned around, standing to see her, and that's when she realized he had a huge gash on the side of his head. It looked as though he had been trying to clean the wound, as their first aid kit was sprawled out across the floor in front of him in the cat bed. He knelt down quickly but then hesitated. His hand was out and ready to grab a rather nasty looking knife that was on the floor. Their eyes met as she kneeled next to the couch. Beneath the blood running down the side of his face, his eyes were a piercing shade of orange. Almost unnatural.

"Are" she began, but didn't know what to say. "Are you okay?" stupid question really, he obviously wasn't ok, there was blood gushing from the side of his head. Of course he wasn't ok! Then again he was grabbing for a knife. Maybe he had just murdered someone and that wasn't his blood at all, but the blood of a victim! This was not the way she wanted to go out, murdered in her own home in the dead of night. She had always thought she'd go out in her sleep of old age, or in some kind of freak accident on the highway.

It took him a moment before he made any kind of movement, as if he was assessing the situation, deciding whether or not he was going to kill her.

"Uh." she began, but he stopped her. Bringing his hand quickly to his mouth, in a sign of silence. She quieted and knelt awkwardly against the couch, letting her imagination run wild.

The boy looked around, and then stepped towards her, which caught her off guard, making her fall backwards. The boy reached forward quickly, and grabbed her right wrist before she could make a loud noise.

"If you make a noise, he's going to know we're in here." He finally spoke. His voice made him sound much older than a boy. eighteen maybe?

"wh-"

"I said don't talk" he clenched his teeth trying to be quiet.

She switched her weight under his grip and set herself lightly on the floor. She gave him a look, as though asking if it was ok, and he finally released her arm.

She curled into herself next to the couch, trying to avoid the crazy teen in her study as he walked cautiously to the door and looked out it.

"Stay here, don't make any noise" he said under his breath and walked out into the living room. The light clicked off, and she heard the deadbolt on the front door lock.

_Oh god. He's going to rape me, then kill me. _Her imagination began to run off on it's own, leaving her sanity far behind.

She saw his figure walk through the doorway, dragging his left leg slightly as he made his way to the window behind the desk, and with a swift movement, he drew the blinds. Leaving them in complete darkness.

She heard him walk in front of her again and close the door to the study as her eyes began to adjust slightly to the darkness. He didn't say anything, but she saw his outline walk back over to her and he slid down the wall opposite her.

_This is it. This is when it happens. I'll fight him. So help me god I'll scream until someone hears._

"I didn't think anyone was here." he said under his breath as he rubbed his hands exasperatedly through his hair. "Why are you here." He paused, but not long enough for a reply "There wasn't _supposed_ to be anyone here". He finished, sounding more and more agitated after every word.

"I _live_-" she began, but he abruptly put his hand over her mouth to stop her.

"Wait." he said so quietly she could barely even hear him.

It was then she heard the noise. A loud horrifying sound. As if someone had just ripped open an entire barn of livestock. The screech was so loud that it reverberated off the walls, causing the house to shake.

The boy turned his head to the window. She turned her head to follow, and saw the silhouette. It wasn't any kind of human or animal that she had ever seen. It walked near the window, and then out of sight.

They sat in silence for only moments before she heard it against the door. Grinding it's claws down the solid wood door.

Panic engulfed her, and she could feel herself sober up through sheer fear. She grabbed his hand and pulled it from his mouth as she tried to speak. He tasted like salt and dirt.

"what_ is_ that" she screeched under her voice, trying to keep herself from screaming. But she quickly descended into hysteria, her voice raising as tears began to erupt from her eyes.

"Sorry, this isn't going to work" is all she heard from him before a sudden pain in her head and everything went black.


End file.
